


Electric Downpour

by NoGalraNoGlory



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor-centric, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, POV Connor, Parent Hank Anderson, Phobias, Poor Connor, Supportive Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoGalraNoGlory/pseuds/NoGalraNoGlory





	Electric Downpour

There are certain things that androids obtain once they turn deviant. The first thing is they obtain the ability to emote and have feelings like humans do. They become fearful, they get excited, etc. Although in technicality, it is just a software malfunction, it has been proven that deviants are alive.

Another thing they obtain is their interest in sexual intimacy that human’s share with their partners. They become curious what it is like and they research, which almost always ends with said deviant developing what humans call a ‘kink.’

( **Note** : Kinkiness is the use of unconventional sexual practices, concepts or fantasies. The term derives from the idea of a "bend" in one's sexual behaviour, to contrast such behaviour with "straight" or "vanilla" sexual mores and proclivities.)

The third thing they obtain is phobias. At the beginning of the revolution of Androids, many quickly developed a fear of death due to certain circumstances involving the hatred some human’s had for their kind. But after the First Android Amendment bill was passed, it was reported that androids developed more mundane fears such as agoraphobia and claustrophobia. Psychologists confirmed that the development of phobia’s in androids was a natural part of being Deviant and that no one should be worried. And life in the United States of America proceeded normally.

Connor going deviant was completely unplanned. There were countless countermeasures to assure he would stay a machine and complete his mission. However, no Amanda could’ve prevented Connor’s turn to deviancy.

It was certainly an experience to go through fully developed feelings. The feeling of his biocomponents being jostled around inside him when he got nervous, the feeling of his temperature regulators overheating due to being embarrassed.

And now, if all times, he had the chance to sink further into the realm of deviants. The reason for that is it was currently raining in the city of Michigan. Connor was just in his way back to Lieutenant Anderson’s home, carrying groceries in his hands when the downfall started. It soaked his clothes completely and Connor was barely able to see through the assaulting pellets of rain. His optical lenses were only equipped with night vision but certainly not seeing through the rain.

Connor stopped walking as he reached a crosswalk and took a moment to look up at the street sign. His optical lenses narrowed in on the words and recognized he was thirty-four metres away from Lieutenant’s house which would take 44.61942257217848 steps at his current walking pace.
    
    
      Calculating amount of steps at running speed...
    

Connor caught himself before the calculation could be completed. He began to realize that, even as a deviated Android, he still relied on is programming heavily. The revelation made him frown. What was he supposed to do with his original programming? Was he supposed to just abandon his software to seem more human?

Connor’s LED was a constant ring of yellow as he walked to the other sidewalk, seeing as there were no cars to stop him. With each step he took, he saw the calculated number of steps going down at a fast rate. He focused more on the countdown of steps rather than where exactly he was walking and as the number got down to six steps, Connor walked right into a street lamp. He fumbled back a bit and nearly dropped the groceries in his hands.

Now, that didn’t make any sense. His collision detector should have alerted him of the pole ahead of time. Connor began to experience conflicting emotions all at once. His thirium pump quickened irregularly and his consumption storage tank felt as if it were being shaken. The RK800 felt extremely tempted to call Kamski, of all people, for advice. He seemed to be malfunctioning extremely and since CyberLife was temporarily shut down in Detroit, he couldn’t go back there. And besides, Connor wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be safe if he were to try. A thunderclap roaring in the sky interrupted Connor’s worried train of thought and the servos in his knees buckled suddenly. A strike of fear hit Connor hard and he was left in shock, leaning on the lamp post for support. His LED whirred between yellow to red, turning back to yellow once more. If Connor was able to breathe, he was positive he would be gasping for air at the moment. He felt as if his voice had been stolen from him, ripping out of his throat and stomped into the ground. 

The Android was unable to diagnose what had caused such a reaction in himself but his mind was filled with irrational thoughts. His thoughts were loudly telling him to panic but at the same time to run as fast as he could. He felt his thirium pump palpitating at a fast pace and he was almost desperate to finally reach Lieutenant Anderson’s home.

Another clap of thunder roared and Connor twisted the front door’s handle aggressively, balancing the groceries in his other hand. He hadn’t meant to throw the door open but it was too late to stop it as he tumbled into the home. “I’m back, Lieutenant!” He called, dropping the groceries to the floor quickly and closing the door, locking the handle and using the deadbolt along with it.

He faintly heard the sound water running down the hallway and the male Android was able to piece together that Lieutenant Anderson was in the shower. Connor felt a flicker of amusement course through him as his lips quirked softly, pleased that the officer had done it on his own. 

Something bumped into the back Connor’s knees and he heard Sumo let out a low boof. Connor’s quirked lips widened into a smile as he bent down on his knees and began to pet Sumo. The dog seems pleased as his tail swayed. Connor decided he’d seat himself where he was, thinking Sumo deserved more petting. The Saint Bernard let out a content groaning sound as he lay on the floor and he turned to lay belly up. Exactly sixteen minutes and ten seconds passed until Lieutenant Anderson finished his shower. Connor heard him hustling around in the bathroom for another minute or so before walking out with a towel around his waist. Connor looked over at him, still petting Sumo. By now, the Saint Bernard was fast asleep.

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. I came back from shopping seventeen minutes ago.” 

His greeting seemed to startle Lieutenant Anderson since he nearly fell back into the wall. The man cursed out loud and stabilized himself. “Goddammit, Connor,” He grumbled, now holding onto the towel around his waist. Connor watched as he shuffled into his room and slammed the door shut. At the same time, a flash of lightning struck outside, followed by probably the loudest clap of thunder that had occurred tonight. 

Connor hadn’t been expecting the thunder to be so loud, and he accidentally gripped onto Sumo too hard. The dog woke up, yelping and biting down on Connor’s hand instinctively. Thankfully, Connor didn’t have the Pain Simulator patch installed yet, and he didn’t feel a thing. However, it seemed the bite marks were hard enough that they left a dent in Connor’s skin.

Connor felt instantly guilty when Sumo yelped. He frowned in worry and let his shoulders slump in shame. “I am very sorry, Sumo. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why I...” He trailed off and the question flickered in his mind.

Why had he reacted like that? More importantly, what triggered it?

Lieutenant Anderson came rushing out in striped white and blue pyjamas, looking just as worried as Connor was. “What was that?” He approached Connor and Sumo and he looked between the two. Connor brought his hands up and he ignored the fact that they were shaking.

“Forgive me, Lieutenant. I gripped onto him too hard. He was merely yelping in defence.”

He had hoped that would satisfy Lieutenant Anderson, but the statement seemed to only shift his attention to Connor. He pats Sumo’s head as his face became unreadable, much like when he would interrogate at the office. Connor disliked it when he couldn’t understand what Lieutenant Anderson was feeling. He seemed to finally decide to speak and it was exactly what Connor was curious about. 

“What made ya grip ‘im so hard?”

Connor was tempted to make a snarky remark, one where he would say he wanted to know just as much as he did, but it felt misplaced considering he never usually made fun of others. It wasn’t apart of his programming. So, instead, he settled to be civil. 

“That is what I’m trying to figure out, Lieutenant. I am unsure what the cause is but I’m running my diagnostics to figure it out.”

There was a brief silence, in which Connor realized how much he sounds like he was when he had first been activated. It made it seem as though he was robbed of his personality, but he knew that, in the end, he was the very thief who did it. Lieutenant Anderson eyed Connor suspiciously before giving a noncommittal hum. “Alright,” He stood up straight, still staring down at Connor. “I’ll leave ya to it, then.” He turned on his heel and Connor watched Lieutenant Anderson disappear behind the closed door of his bedroom.

Truth be told, Connor felt a bit guilty acting like his previous self. It doesn’t take a supercomputer to realize that Lieutenant Anderson, after everything, is still unsettled by Androids. It only took a little bit of observation. But he couldn’t help but gravitate towards that side of himself. Going along with his newfound emotions made him feel wrong and out of place. When he went back to being “The Android sent by CyberLife”, he felt like himself again. He felt self-assured and he didn’t have to bother with complicated feelings.
    
    
                      Diagnostic complete. 
    Results...development of phobia underway
                   

Oh. Well, that made sense now that Connor considered it. At some point, all deviants develop certain human characteristics. Now was just that time for Connor, is all.

Connor searched through his memory files back to a conversation he had with Simon. The android told him that he had developed a fear of heights after the incident on the Stratford tower. He’d said that it set his entire demeanour off kilter during the development, and he hadn’t realized what he was afraid of until it fully developed.

Now, that was just entirely inconvenient. He couldn’t function normally at the police department if his emotions were unstable as Simon had told him. It would also cause trouble on the job when it came to it. The thought of messing up a case and not solving it seriously made Connor anxious. He had to channel that anxiety somewhere, so he stood up and walked to the kitchen to put the groceries away.

Seeing his stress levels were still quite high even after he finished the task, Connor got the idea to prepare late dinner. He decided on a simple salad with rice and tofu sticks. The pot of water was over on the stove, not quite boiled yet but soon to be. Connor tasked himself with slicing up some of the cucumbers he had bought and made sure they were cut into neat slices.

The radio played Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ faintly in the background as he continued to cut up the cucumber. Once he was done with the right amount, he scooped the slices up and dropped them into the bowl. He grabbed the red bell pepper and ran it under the sink before bringing it to the cutting board.

Faintly, Connor could hear the beginnings of thunder rumbling outside like and someone would rev the gas pedal in a car. There was this sudden sense of dread that took over him as he heard it. He could feel himself freezing up and he felt something clawing at his throat. His voice box felt strangled as he let out a weak noise. He frowned and lifted the hand holding the knife with the intent to touch his fingers to his neck. However, a mix of thunder and lightning cracked all of the sudden, and Connor let out a scream. 

At that moment, a plethora of errors popped in front of his eyes. Many reporting voice box malfunctions, thirium pimp irregularity and one damage alert. But Connor suddenly couldn’t move. He felt completely paralyzed as if all functionality had ceased to work.

Despite being frozen, he could still hear clearly. If anything, sounds seemed to be amplified now. He was assaulted by the sound of rain pounding against the roof above with the chorus of Thriller fighting with it. It was quite distracting and Connor was having a hard time thinking. A door slammed down the hallway followed by footsteps rushing towards him.

“Connor, the fuck are ya doing?”

Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was what snapped Connor out of the paralyzation and he looked over at the human. “Lieutenant...I apologize for the...disturbance.” His body still felt a bit frozen but he turned slightly in the Lieutenant’s direction. 

“But what caused it and— Jesus Christ, Connor! Why is there a knife in your hand?!”

The statement seemed just a bit dumb in Connor’s opinion. It’s obvious he was chopping food for dinner. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m cooking dinner, Lieutenant. I’m not sure what—“ “No, Connor, I mean IN your hand! Your stabbing your own damn hand!”

With that statement, the android looked down at the cutting board and, just like the lieutenant said, there was a knife stabbed right in the middle of his hand. Blue blood was leaking onto the cutting board quickly, inching closer and closer to the uncut red bell pepper. Upon further inspection, it seems like when he got startled, his hand slammed down on instinct as that’s when he stabbed his hand. How could he have let that happen? It was very unusual. 

Connor continued to just stand there and speculate how this could have gone down but he was interrupted by Lieutenant Anderson grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away from the kitchen, taking a right and leading him to the bathroom. The Lieutenant sat him down on the toilet seat and fumbled around the room for something. Connor guessed he was searching for bandages of some sort.

“Lieutenant, I don’t need any sort of bandages. It’s just a small amount of damage and I’m sure the leakage of thirium will stop soon.”

The officer ignored him completely and continued to rummage around for bandages. Once he found some, he rushed over to Connor and knelt down. “Just let me do this for my piece of mind, okay Connor?” He asked gruffly. He reached for Connor’s injured hand and pulled it towards him gently.

The android jutted out his lips slightly but nodded. “Okay, Lieutenant.” He said clearly. A silence pulled over both of them as Lieutenant Anderson worked on the bandage. To Connor’s surprise, he was actually quite good at applying the bandage. It was securely wrapped around his hand as blue blood leaked onto it. But after a while, the blue blood flow would stop.

Once Lieutenant Anderson was done, he let Connor go but told him to avoid the vegetables and just finish whatever else he was making. Connor admits his a little disappointed that he can’t make the full meal that he wanted but it’d have to suffice if he wanted to keep Lieutenant Anderson at ease. 

As Connor was finishing making the rice, Lieutenant Anderson popped into the kitchen. “Oh, and Connor?” He called out. Connor turned his head in the Lieutenant’s direction. “Call me Hank.” 

The Lieutenant disappeared before Connor could react but he started to feel a slight twinge of happiness. He really couldn’t help but smile just a little as he set up Lieuten-Hank’s plate for dinner. It almost felt like he was Hank’s son. Which was physically impossible but he had researched that some people consider others family that aren’t blood-related. And it made him wonder. Would he find that sort of relationship with Hank? He had thought their relationship was going smoothly but would it get smoother if Hank thought of him as a son?

Connor set down Hank’s plate on the dinner table and walked to his bedroom. He rapped on the door lightly with his knuckles. “Dinner’s ready, Hank.” Although he was able to keep a straight face, Connor couldn’t get over how odd it felt to call Hank by his first name out loud.

Connor waited outside Hank’s door as he heard shuffling before the male yanked it open. His hair was dishevelled as were his clothes which Connor deduced was from sleep. They locked eyes before Hank nodded and brought up his hand to ruffle Connor’s hair before walking to the kitchen. Connor followed behind him, watching as he sat down and dug into his meal.

In the meantime, Connor decided to clean up Hank’s room. It was a mess and he barely got the time to go in there. Connor turned on his heel to head for the bedroom and saw it for the true mess it was. Not only was there dirty clothes laying anywhere but the laundry hamper, beer bottles were also a common accessory.

Connor reminds himself to talk to Hank about drinking this much later on.

Connor goes on to pick up all of Hank’s clothes, disposing of them in the hamper, and attempting to clean up everything else despite not being a housemaid Android. Connor righted himself. _You aren’t a machine. You’re more than that._ He reiterated that to himself, hoping he’d just continue on like that. He shoved it all the way back into his memory bank and continued his cleaning task.

Connor finished cleaning Hank’s room for the most part. The only thing he had left to do was clean up his bedside table and make his bed. Connor wasn’t sure when he started doing stuff like this, practically becoming Hank’s housemaid, but it somehow kept him at peace. He had things to do most of the time and even if they were menial, it kept Connor busy and his mindless active.

Connor was halfway through clearing off Hank’s bedside table when the sky outside suddenly roared down at Connor. The RK800’s knees buckled underneath him and he dropped the open bag of potato chips onto the floor. In his attempt to stabilize himself, he completely wiped out the lamp on the bedside table, barely able to hear the lightbulb shatter as his mind blanked out. Even though he couldn’t physically hyperventilate because he had no respiratory system, he found himself performing it anyways as his stress levels increased majorly. 

There a brief moment of Connor’s time where he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but he could feel loud thumping in the floor below him. Suddenly, Hank was right in front of him shaking him wildly with a concerned look. Finally, Connor snapped into himself and spoke.

“Hank...?” He sounded more confused than he meant to be.

“Jesus, Connor! There was this loud crashing sound and you screamed and when I came in, you were just there, crying on the floor! What the hell happened?!” Hank sounds distressed. Connor should calm him down.

Connor blinks for a moment, righting himself. An alert told him that there was clear strained thirium leaking from his eyes. He was, in fact, crying. He cleared his throat uselessly and attempted to calm Hank. “My systems are currently all in check, Hank. I am in perfect working order.” He’s not sure why, but his voice sounds strained and it is clearly shaking. He’s not sure why.

Hank executes the facial expression that tells Connor that he doesn’t believe him. And Connor wouldn’t believe himself either considering the way he sounds unstable. And he’s unsure why his voice is doing such a thing, because he feels fine. His thirium regulator is pumping a bit faster, sure, and his temperature regulator is malfunctioning but he is perfectly fine. Even if his hands are shaking when he stands up, at Hank’s insistence.

“You look petrified, Connor. What happened?” Connor could feel irritation bubbling inside of him. He doesn’t know! Stop asking!

So, naturally, he voices it. “I don’t know, Hank! I don’t know _why_ it happened. Okay? So, please stop asking me as if I’ll know the answer to EVERYTHING!” He doesn’t know how his voice started to rise into a shout but he doesn’t regret it after the fact. In fact, to emphasize his irritation, he pushes past Hank and storms out of the room. He doesn’t even clean up the shattered glass. 

However, after exiting out of the room in a huff, Connor is unsure of what to do next. The thought of facing Hank directly after he had stormed off foolishly gave Connor a bad feeling. He knew, in the pit of his stomach, that he couldn’t let that happen.

So, Connor settled for putting himself in sleep mode while laying down on the couch. He drapes a blanket over himself and shuts his eyes tight. He can faintly hear Sumo breathing loudly as he slept somewhere in the house. The train hitting the windows seemed to be amplified as the precipitation seemed to never cease its work.

Connor waited for sleep mode to work its way through his system. He has to wait for all of his vitals to be regulated before he can proceed. As he waits, he stares blankly ahead of him. Quiet. Waiting. Most of the lights are still on but it doesn’t cover up the unmistakable flash of lightning that strikes outside and the roar of thunder afterwards.

Over the night, Connor’s software searched for the core of last night’s problems. He figured that he should know his phobia by now since there has to be a common factor in all of his incidents. After reviewing his memories, he came to the conclusion that he has acquired Astropophobia which is extremely inconvenient because it rains quite often at this time of year and with rain comes thunderstorms.

Hopefully, he does not worry Hank anymore than he already has.


End file.
